Bread and Butter
by Alima8314
Summary: Father’s Day fic. "It had been a shock when he learned of this tragedy. Having learned about it in such an impersonal way as the front page of the local paper had hurt a great deal." Parental!Hughes/Ed. Implied Parental!Roy/Ed. Complete summary inside.


**- Bread and Butter -  
An FMA Fanfiction**

- - - - -

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist. I don't make any money from anything I write. In fact, I often lose money because I have to buy research material. Research material being the manga, the anime, and my internet connection.

**A/N:** Self-imposed challenge. Father's Day fic.  
This is just something I wrote one day when I was really bored. I was listening to my MP3 player, and Vic Mignogna's version of "_Brothers_" started playing, so I started writing. The song brought to my mind the guilt Edward lives with, and cannot seem to get over. I have not seen this angle yet, so I decided to write it out. Also, I dreamt part of this (Ed's speech was dreamt. But at the time, he was merely standing in empty space, just talking). It seems that I dream up parts for most of my stories.  
I made up my own epitaph (with some help), since the image of the gravestone in the manga only has some squiggly lines for the text, and I forget what it looks like in the anime.  
Mostly mangaverse, but with a sprinkling of animeverse elements.  
We don't know what holidays they DO celebrate in Amestris, and I'm not sure they have Father's Day. But, for the purposes of this story, they DO celebrate Father's Day.  
I went to http(colon)(slash)(slash)www(dot)pioneerthinking(dot)com(slash)flowerlanguage(dot)html for the explanations of the flowers in Ed's bouquet.  
I'm really bad with colors, and Edward's poor decorative taste is already very much established within the canon, so I'm going to use that as my excuse for any possible clashing there is with the colors of the flowers. In my mind, Edward isn't caring about the form. At the moment, he only cares about the function.  
It's so sad! I used to work in the floral department at Michaels Arts and Crafts Store, and yet, I'd never done a single floral arrangement in the three years I was there.

**Spoiler Warning(s):** Spoilers for Anime Episode 25, _'Words of Farewell'_ and, Manga Chapters 15, _'Fullmetal Heart'_ 16, _'Separate Paths'_ and 35, '_The Sacrificial Lamb._'

**Pairing(s):** N/A ... Well, maybe Parental!Hughes/Edward, even though Hughes is deceased. Implied Parental!Roy/Edward.

**Special Thanks To:  
**_Songfic Misstress_, for helping me with both the title and epitaph.  
_kurahieiritr_, for editing this story for me.

* * *

It was a cool Sunday morning in the middle of June, and the military cemetery grounds had sparse bits of activity. Few people meandered between the graves, most of them grounds keepers, but a few visitors were there, paying their respects to departed loved ones. One visitor had been there since dawn.

Feeling that he had no right to show any pain or grief in the presence of his younger brother, whose soul he had unfairly imprisoned in a suit of armor, Edward snuck out of the hotel without Alphonse's knowledge. Once he was sure his brother hadn't noticed his departure, Edward made his way to the cemetery in the predawn light. When he arrived at his destination long before the gates would have been opened for the day, he had broken into the cemetery via alchemy, an easy task since he did not have to take the time to draw the array. He needed only to clap his hands to activate the power he controlled. He knew he should have waited for visiting hours, but he was impatient. He searched until he found the grave he had come to visit. Once found, he stood before the grave marker wearing a solemn face.

He had brought a vase overflowing with an explosion of random flowers. He was tired of carrying the odd shaped vase in his auto-mail arm, or rather, awkwardly supporting it with his left arm, so placed the vase on the marker as soon he found it.

The light breeze that caressed his cheek also made his long golden braid swing across his back. Ed leaned forward and brushed the top of the marker with his fingertips, his other hand clenched in a fist of rage directed at himself. The breeze continued to blow, causing both the flowers in the vase and him, on his tired legs, to sway.

"Mr. Hughes," Edward Elric whispered, breaking the silence he had maintained for the last hour. Honey-colored eyes, dark with grief, stared at the words engraved on the smooth white marble.

_Mäes Hughes  
__1885—1914  
__Brigadier General  
__In loving memory of  
__A devoted husband and father  
__A good friend to those who needed it  
__A brave soldier who perished in the line of duty  
Serving the state in defense of our great nation of Amestris  
We will not forget your sacrifice_

It had been a shock when he had learned of this tragedy, and the lie Mustang had told him. Having learned about it in such an impersonal way as reading about it on the front page of the local paper had hurt a great deal, considering that the colonel had told him that Hughes had retired from the military and moved to the countryside with his family. He still found it difficult to believe that the man had been murdered. Immediately, he and Al had gone to the Hughes' residence to apologize to the recently widowed Gracia Hughes.

The blond heaved a sigh. "I'm sorry I got you killed. Everyone..." Blinking a few times, he continued. "Everyone keeps telling me that it wasn't my fault, but I know better. They're only saying that because... it's the adult thing to say. Or, so they think. Like I said, I know better. If you had never gotten mixed up in my quest, you would still..." the teen choked.

He raised a hand to his eyes, wiping away the moisture that had accumulated. "You would still be here, tucking in your little girl at night if not for me and Al." Edward sat on the cold ground, folding his legs underneath his hips. His flesh leg had been bothering him for the few hours he had been standing, but he ignored his discomfort. He felt he deserved it for causing the death of someone he cared about, and who had cared about him and his brother in return.

It seemed to him that he had a negative influence on the lives of the people he cared about. First, his mother had passed away from a mysterious illness shortly after he had become man of the house. Then, almost a year later, he had shattered his younger brother's life in an attempt to bring their mother back. Now, he was looking for a way to correct the mistakes he had made out of love. He tried to keep people away from his research, for fear that he was a jinx, and had even lied to Hughes at first when asked about what he was doing. Only his being cornered in a hospital bed, after a disastrous raid of Laboratory Five, had allowed Hughes to get the truth from him about his search for the Philosopher's Stone. It was this feeling that caused him to hold people at arm's length, though a few individuals did manage to sneak their way into his heart from time to time.

Ed pulled his red trench coat more tightly around his shoulders, as he stared at the bouquet that sat on the marker. He had stopped by a flower shop on his way home from the library the night before, knowing they would still be closed when he planned to visit the cemetery. He had felt nervous entering the brightly colored shop. Edward had stuttered out his request to the shopkeeper, who had originally teased him about 'getting flowers for his girlfriend.'

However, once the blond explained his reasons for buying the flowers, the florist, who seemed only a few years older than Edward, apologized profusely. After the matter had been settled, she helped Ed pick out the proper flowers. Edward listened attentively as the clerk, who seemed to be rather new at the job, though she had assured him, without his asking, that she trained extensively to get the job, explained the meaning of each flower as it was added to the decorative vase.

_"Let's see. You said you were visiting someone's grave, right? Then, I suppose we'll use this as our focal flower. It represents 'mourning,'" the clerk said, pulling out a single large rose, which was colored a rich, dark crimson. "And, you said you respected this person, so we'll put some daffodils in."_

_"So, daffodils mean respect?" Edward asked, watching as the flower collection grew larger._

_"Yes. May I ask who this person was to you?" At the teen's hesitation, the clerk quickly added, "It's only to help me help you."_

_Edward blushed. "He was... my friend. He visited me a lot whenever I was in the hospital, and..." he took a shuddery breath. "My brother and I, we've been traveling a lot, and only recently found out that he had... passed away." The youngster fingered the edges of the rose, his regrets mirrored in his eyes. "He treated us like his sons... And I didn't... I didn't do anything to pay him back for that kindness. I really wish I had now. I took his gift for granted, and it's too late now to thank him."_

_"I see..." the clerk deftly plucked a few purple trumpet-shaped flowers from a container behind the counter. "Let's add some of these, then."_

_Golden eyes watched curiously. "What do they mean?"_

_"This flower is called a hyacinth," the clerk said, holding one out for the boy to examine. "The flower itself is a symbol of sorrow, and the color means something like 'I'm sorry' or 'please forgive me.'"_

_"Oh," was all Edward could say as he handed back the flower. It was a very appropriate bloom for the bouquet, considering the guilt he felt over Hughes' death._

_The clerk shuffled around behind the counter some more, muttering about other befitting flowers to add. "I found another flower to use as a secondary focal point." She held up a handful of flowers, each with its own unique color._

_Edward squinted at them. "Are those daisies? I thought they were white."_

_"No," the clerk chuckled. "A mixed assortment of zinnias, which is what these are, mean 'thinking of an absent friend.' Is that helpful?"_

_Edward could only nod. He watched as the clerk spread out a few stems covered with several smaller pink flowers. "What are those?"_

_"Rosemary," the florist held out a sprig for Edward, who sniffed it before it was placed in the vase. "It's often used in cooking. However, for what we're doing, it means 'remembrance.'"_

_"This one," Ed started, pointing at a cluster with bright yellow star burst flowers and jade green feathery leaves, "smells kind of like licorice."_

_"Ah, good eye," She smiled, "and nose. This is fennel, which means 'worthy of all praise.' It, too, is used in cooking." The florist rearranged the flowers, being sure to make the large rose the center of attention. Then she shifted the fennel for use as a stabilizer for the other flowers. The many branching leaves were strong enough to brace the other stems, giving the arrangement volume._

_After she had positioned the contrasting blooms in what they both deemed the most attractive way, the clerk slid a card and pen on the counter toward Ed. "Sign this, and I'll put it with the bouquet."_

_"Ah... okay." Edward picked up the offered pen and scribbled his initial on the card. He handed the pen and card back to the woman behind the counter and she placed the card in a pick before inserting it into the vase among the flowers._

_"There you go!" She smiled as she pushed the arrangement toward the teen. Edward pulled out his wallet to pay for the woman's work. Smiling, he handed over a few extra bills as a tip. He felt the florist had been especially helpful, and wanted to show his appreciation in his own way. She seemed surprised at the amount, but he explained to her the fact that, even as young as he was, he already had a rather lucrative occupation._

_Cradling the container in his auto-mail right arm, he used his left hand to stabilize it as he made his way to the hotel room he shared with his brother. Luckily, Al wasn't around when he got home, so he was able to hide the vase in his closet. He didn't feel like explaining his actions to his younger sibling when he got back from wherever he was. Looking at the clock and seeing how late is was, he realized Al must have gotten worried, and was probably out searching for him._

_Shrugging at the thought of his worrywart younger brother, Edward pulled the notes he had taken while at the library out of his pocket and settled on the bed. He had spent the day taking notes regarding what he had hoped were alternatives to having to use the potentially deadly Philosopher's Stone to restore his younger brother to his rightful body. Spreading the pages before him, he studied long into the night, not noticing when Al finally returned._

The teen sighed, bringing himself back to the present. "It's all my fault. Elysia is going to grow up without a father, just like Al and I did, and it's all my fault, I'm so sorry. When she's old enough to understand, I will have to apologize to Elysia, too."

Edward placed his flesh elbow on his auto-mail knee, curled his fingers, and rested his chin on his fist. "Maybe I was just jealous that someone else could have the loving father I'd always wanted." He paused, contemplating the words he had just spoken. "Yeah, I was jealous, and so I subconsciously led you to your death." The youngster sniffed and wiped his eyes once more.

"I'm a terrible person, and I guess I'm only here to make myself feel better." The teen took a deep shuddering breath and cleared his throat. "Nevertheless, you and the colonel... You two are the closest thing I've had to a father since my own ran away. I know that you guys were only looking out for Al's and my best interests, and that is why Mustang's always so hard on me, but sometimes, it hurts."

A faint smile formed on Edward's lips, but it quickly faded. "You always treated me as the adult I'm trying to be, and you never tried to make me do things you wanted me to. I mean, you would nudge me in one direction or another." The teen balled up his left fist, bracing it on his hip and waggled the index finger of his other hand in a mocking manner. "Still, you never said _'Edward, I'm older, and know better than you, so you must do what I say.'_"

He snorted at his poor imitation of Hughes. "You may have outranked me, but you always left that kind of thing up to the colonel. I guess that's because I wasn't actually your subordinate."

Edward took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his eyes wandering over the grave stone again. He pulled his knees to his chest and rested his folded arms on his knees. "Mr. Hughes, I hope you can forgive me someday. I know you were only trying to help out a friend... But, there was no need to go as far as you did." The blond chuckled mirthlessly. "Sometimes, when I look in the mirror, and stare at my reflection, I see someone who lives on guilt. I mean, it's like, my bread and butter or..." The blond looked up at the fluffy clouds that floated lazily in the sky, wishing they could tell him what he needed to know, or at least tell him what to say. "I don't know, something like that. I can't live completely without feeling guilty over... something..." He gestured wildly as he addressed the stone. "Anything!"

Ed closed his eyes as he lowered his face once more. He sat silently for a while, feeling the almost uncomfortable heat of the rising sun on his back. The temperature was increasing, but he felt no need to remove his jacket. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to burden you with all this. I just needed someone to talk to, and I don't think I could go to the colonel this time. I think he'd mock me. He does that a lot, you know. But you, you've always listened to what I had to say, reserving judgement until I finished speaking. Thank you for that."

The blond studied the marker again. "Brigadier General, huh? I bet the colonel was upset with you for that." Edward choked on a laugh. "I mean, you know how he is about getting promoted. However, I don't think he's ready to die to get what he wants." The teen slapped a hand over his mouth in horror. He shifted quickly to his hands and knees, almost bowing to the stone. He couldn't believe the flippant words he had just spoken. "I mean, I know it's not like you went out of your way to die, and I know you didn't one-up Mustang on purpose... I'm sorry, what I said was rude... I'm sorry." He kept his head bowed for a few moments, hoping that, wherever he was, Hughes could hear his apology. Edward didn't believe in an afterlife, but for Hughes, and his mother, he would believe, if only a little. However, his pride would demand that he deny it when asked.

"I should go now. I didn't tell Al where I was going, and he's probably worried about me by now," Edward pushed himself up. He dusted himself off as he gave one last look at the grave marker. "See you later, Mr. Hughes. Happy Father's Day." Before walking away, Edward surveyed the area to be sure no one was watching and gave a quick, but still proper, salute to the eternal resting place of Mäes Hughes.


End file.
